


until the sky opens up

by iwaoidk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Eventual Romance, Fluff, Happy Ending, I do not know how to tag, M/M, Pining, and Iwaizumi is clumsy and dense, but I can tell you that Oikawa pines, this is not angst or death this time I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5008225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaoidk/pseuds/iwaoidk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not nervous.</p><p>No no no, Oikawa Tooru is not nervous. It's not in his vocabulary, it's just not something that he has the capability to admit to himself.</p><p>That's why, heart seeming to thud hard enough to shake even his knees, he's trying to convince himself that not wanting to walk away from the sight of his best friend taking a shower is a normal thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	until the sky opens up

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [this post](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/154076) by norokei. 



He's not nervous.

No no no, Oikawa Tooru is not nervous. It's not in his vocabulary, it's just not something that he has the capability to admit to himself.

That's why, heart seeming to thud hard enough to shake even his knees, he's trying to convince himself that not wanting to walk away from the sight of his best friend taking a shower is a normal thing.

They're in the locker room just after practice, and there are a lot of things he could be concentrating on.

He could be looking at the pattern of the tile. The way the towel rungs are shaped. The dents in the lockers, the smudges on the floor, anything and everything. But no, of course not.

Instead, he's looking at Iwa-chan's back muscles and wondering what it'd be like to drag his tongue along them as they flex.

And maybe it's not exactly the most platonic thing that could be running through his head, but there isn't any real reason he should try to stop it.

It was kind of terrifying really, when he'd realized the moment that Iwaizumi had gone from best-friend-Iwa-chan to this excessively-attractive-Iwa-chan. The moment that slinging an arm around his shoulder had gone from friendly to territorial, from easy going to possessive in the sort of way he didn't really want Iwa-chan himself to know about. But that wasn't an actual danger, because in all truths, Iwaizumi Hajime was probably one of the densest people in the world.

One time, a girl bent over his desk. Dropped her pencil right into his lap, made sure a few top buttons were undone. Leaned down and said "excuse me" with something of a sadistic eyelash-bat and picked it up a little slower than necessary.

But then Iwa-chan had been the one to apologize, shrugging and leaning forward to continue copying notes.

He wouldn't know affection if it kicked him in the head, and Oikawa was something close to grateful.

 

##

 

The first time it happens, Oikawa almost thinks it's funny.

Hanamaki has always had this fixation with trying to win against Iwaizumi. Maybe arm-wrestling had been thrown away a while ago, but he still desperately searches for anything he can to beat him.

So when Hanamaki and Iwaizumi end up with their faces just barely apart, a chocolate covered biscuit stick shared between their lips, Oikawa has no trouble passing it off as something of a joke. Petty ego pursuits.

"The Pocky game."

Matsukawa says it flatly, throat void of expression as he regards the two boys staring intently at each other.

"You've resorted to the Pocky game."

He has a little more emphasis on his words now but he's still close to disbelieving. Oikawa feels his lips twitch at the scene, and he can't help but agree with Matsukawa. He's not sure what he's agreeing with but he's nodding his head anyway, and watching Hanamaki inch forward.

"Go, Iwa-chan!" he cheers, and Iwaizumi takes in more of the stick too. Both of them aren't even flinching, faces looking something like animals as they move in closer.

Matsukawa sighs, runs a hand down his face. "I don't know whether I want to see a loser or not."

Hanamaki slams his hand on the club room's bench, hissing out, "I amf gonna win thish one."

Then Iwaizumi narrows his eyes, moving even closer now, "Like hell you will."

Makki starts to whine about how unfair it is that Iwaizumi can talk clearly but he can't, and he slides in.

Just as Iwaizumi does.

Their lips touch with something like a shriek, and then they're frozen, eyes wide just before they jerk away. Iwaizumi looks like he just touched gum under a desk and Hanamaki looks like his dog just got hit by a car, and then they're both clawing at their lips desperately.

"You dumbass, you weren't supposed to-"

"How the fuck was I gonna know that-"

"Well, you sure as hell didn't win that one, Hanamaki."

"Neither did you."

Before they left to go home, they'd agreed that it was a draw, Hanamaki a little smug and Iwaizumi a little angry.

(And as they walked home together, steps falling in the same rhythm, Oikawa couldn't stop thinking about the moment Hanamaki's lips touched Iwa-chan's and how he felt like he was choking on his own throat when it happened.)

 

##

 

The second time it happens, Oikawa really doesn't know what to do.

Matsukawa is probably one of the most laid-back guys he knows.

Always has that easy smile on his lips, always has those eyebrows just barely raised to give you the impression that he's acting surprised when he really knew everything all along.

Matsukawa is a joker, and that why he convinces Iwa-chan to do the Kabedon Vine with him.

Oikawa had barely overheard them talking about it at lunch but didn't think much of it, just thought it was an idea, something in the making that would never really be made.

"Come on, Iwaizumi. Stop acting like an old man."

"I'm not acting like an old man but you sure as hell are giving me premature wrinkles."

He spoons some of his lunch between his lips and Oikawa has never wanted to be rice so badly.

"It's our last year. Do it for the memories."

"You mean the ones I'll be agonizing over in twenty years?"

Matsukawa gives that wry smile, leans back just a little and nods at him approvingly.

"Exactly."

It doesn't take much longer for Iwaizumi to crumble, because even those he's hard and tough on the outside, he'd probably do anything just to make his friends happy.

Then they end up propped against a door and a wall in the hallway, Matsukawa complaining and Iwaizumi threatening.

"Your knee is in my arm, can you please-"

"You're the one who even asked me to do this. If you fucking say one more-"

And then, the door starts to open.

It pushes through with a little bit of force, just enough to send Iwa-chan's leg back where it came from. Then it's like a line of dominoes; after that leg, the other follows, then his palms are slipping from the walls and he's falling right on top of Matsukawa. They heap onto the floor, Iwa-chan on top of him, and their lips are meshed together in what looks like one of the most ungraceful kisses that could ever even occur.

They pull back like they've been shocked, faces screwing up in distaste as they scramble away from each other, Matsukawa right into the shins of the person who'd opened the door.

It's one of their underclassmen from first period, and he looks something like confused and terrified at the same time. He bows his head, starts to glue apologies all over his lips and not look any of them in the eye when Matsukawa knocks his head against his knee.

"Don't worry about it. We probably picked a bad place to do it, anyway."

Then he shoots him one of those lazy smiles and their underclassman starts to breathe again. He scurries down the hall, and Oikawa hands Iwa-chan's phone back to him from where he'd been ready to film.

It's a good thing that he does, because if it were still in his hand, it'd be getting dented and cracked under the curling fingers of his fists.

( _It should have been me_.)

 

##

 

By the third time, what happens is simple, and Oikawa thinks he'll die before he gets anywhere with this twisted version of a crush.

They've just won a match. It feels nothing short of amazing, each of them panting and flushed in the cheeks and chests aching in a way that hurts so good. It feels a little over a thousand degrees in the heat shared just among them all, and they're delirious with happiness.

Kindaichi had spiked down the winning point, his shoulders tense from the moment he jumped to the moment he slammed it down onto the opposite side of the court. As soon as his feet hit the ground, everyone was on top of him, pulling at that ridiculous hair and shouting and grinning.

Of course, in the heat of things, Iwa-chan presses a kiss to his cheek. 

Oikawa feels his hands twitch, tries to tell himself it was sarcastic, if kisses could even be sarcastic.

But then Kindaichi turns bright red and he's reminded of the sickening way he adores Iwaizumi, like a puppy to its owner, and he feels himself getting cold under the layers of sweat across his body.

Kindaichi's turning his head now, quick as a whip, and has the fortune to catch Iwaizumi's lips with his own on impulse. It's a knee-jerk reaction, drunk on being giddy and warm and victorious, and they both pull away embarrassed. Kindaichi looks pleased but scared to the bones, and Iwaizumi looks just uncomfortable.

(Oikawa tries to fight the happiness blooming in his veins when he sees Iwaizumi turn away and wipe his lips. He really does try to fight it.)

(It doesn't work.)

 

##

 

The fourth time, he's expecting, because it's becoming something of a sick pattern.

The only thing he can do to make himself feel better is tell himself that Iwa-chan is heroic. He was only trying to help. And first years never have as firm a grasp on what goes on than everyone else.

On this particular occasion, a grasp on the lunch routine is what he means.

There's a stampede every time.

If there is one thing more horrifying than tired teenagers, it's hungry tired teenagers.

Kunimi, the poor soul, wanders through the hall to his locker. He tries to fish something out from the bottom, and he's taking his sweet time. The bell just rang but it doesn't seem to worry him, and then Iwaizumi is sprinting down the halls.

He's got a good head start on the crowd and intends to keep it this way, legs pumping as he tries to make it for the door leading to the roof where Oikawa is waiting safely, and then he sees him.

Kunimi just being Kunimi, oblivious to the potential torture that's about to ransack him.

Iwaizumi makes the split decision to be a good person, a virtuous one, and he opens the stair door and tosses his lunch behind it to Oikawa. Then he dashes back to Kunimi, opens his mouth to warn him, but instead of words comes a feral shout.

Or rather, many shouts. The collision of tens of voices as the rush comes flooding down the hallway. The color drains from both of their faces and Iwaizumi grabs his shoulders, tries to push him out of the way, but they're coming hard now. The influx of students flattens them, irons them together and sticks them right to the wall. 

One student right after the other, all elbows and kneecaps and stumbles and then Iwaizumi finds himself with every inch of himself on Kunimi.

Lips included.

The flow of people lessens to a small trickle, and then the last few leak by just as Iwaizumi pries himself off of Kunimi. They're both grimacing, Kunimi especially, and step away from each other.

(Oikawa happens to have a front row seat behind the door and feels his appetite disappear with the crowd going down the hall.)

 

##

 

The fifth time, Oikawa can't find it in himself to do anything really but just sigh, long and heavy and despaired.

He's speed-walking with Iwa-chan, long legs matching stride with short ones, and Oikawa is twirling the gym keys around his long fingers. There was a slight hold-up before they left home, Iwa-chan's mother insisting that Oikawa have at least one bite of the soup she was experimenting with, and make it two since you like it so much, Tooru, and then Oikawa was being forcefully spoonfed until Iwaizumi dragged him out the door.

"Stop flirting with my mother," Iwa-chan huffs as they break into something of a jog.

"I'm not trying to! It's not my fault that no one can resist my-"

"No one can resist your charms, yeah yeah. I get it."

Oikawa glances to the side to find a small smile pulling at the corners of Iwaizumi's lips, that smile that only he sees, and he feels something melt inside his chest. His lips start to spread too, and he just wants to kiss him so badly.

Apparently, the smile wasn't going to stay long on Iwa-chan's lips, because just as they turn the corner, someone crashes into him.

Face-first.

Oikawa's initial thought is, oh my god everything hates me.

There's a short boy plastered to Iwaizumi, lips melded together in an impromptu way, the both of them stumbling back as soon as it happens.

The boy, now that his face is not stuck to Iwa-chan's, proves to be Watari. A very red Watari.

"I'm so sorry, I was rushing to get to morning practice because my ride was late and oh my god I wasn't looking, I'm so sorry, Iwaizumi-san please-"

Iwaizumi holds up his hands, cheeks flushed too as he keeps walking. "Don't worry about it," he calls over his shoulder, just as his fingers close around Oikawa's wrist to tug him along.

(Oikawa thinks he feels his entire body shiver when he touches him.)

(He tries not to feel too good about it.)

 

##

 

When it happens for the sixth time, Oikawa figures that the novelty is wearing a little too thin for his liking.

Yahaba, he decides, is something like the mother of the team. A little before his time of ruling but he's still doting, in the sense that he cares about everyone and wants to make sure that nothing but the best happens to each of them. He isn't even a starting player but he's observant, a lot like that sweet setter from Karasuno with the bright smile and the silver hair.

Yahaba always tends to have input, whether he's on the court or not, and everyone who has half a mind will listen.

Today, it seems, Iwaizumi has half a mind.

Maybe even three quarters of one.

Oikawa is doing stretches while Iwa-chan and Yahaba discuss a game plan. They're sitting on the bench, facing each other, one leg on each side of it as they pass the paper and pencil back and forth.

There's a knot between Iwa-chan's eyebrows because he's confused. Oikawa just wants to kiss it away.

Yahaba explains to him what he envisions and Iwaizumi tries to grasp it, hands tracing over the lines on the paper. He leans in to scrutinize, just as Yahaba thinks he sees a mistake. He leans in too.

There it is again, Oikawa thinks faintly, just as their foreheads knock against each other and their mouths fall into a light brush.

He feels something like a sledgehammer pounding at his rib cage, trying to tear its way inside his chest, and he vaguely realizes that this is probably how it feels to fall off a cliff.

And then Yahaba jumps up, winces like he's just been burned, and Iwaizumi is doing the same. They're stammering their apologies, scrambling to get away from the crime scene, and Yahaba turns to Oikawa's direction. He tilts his head, and his eyes are lowered in some sort of quiet apology.

( _Sometimes_ , Oikawa thinks,  _Yahaba observes a little too much_.)

 

##

 

The last one is more of a matter of when than if, because there's only one other team member aside from himself who hasn't fallen victim to Iwaizumi's lips.

So Oikawa thinks he's fallen into a deep ditch of something he can't climb out of. It's a never-ending hole that he tripped backwards into and he hasn't quite stopped free falling yet.

Kyoutani is the last one.

He's quiet, more than most people would think he is, and seems to be always turning something over in his head. He looks at Iwaizumi with some sort of fascination, admiration that's a different from Kindaichi's but still in place. He looks up to him, and Oikawa finds it kind of amusing.

Or, rather, he did.

Right now, Kyoutani has his hand slipped into Iwa-chan's, and that's past forgivable.

To be fair, it sounds a lot worse out of context than it actually is.

Their elbows are propped on a table between them, faces tense and concentrated as they try to power the other's hand to the table.

Arm-wrestling is a Seijou art, it seems, and Hanamaki is watching desperately from Kyoutani's side.

Oikawa just leans against the wall, still faithful as ever, calling out a half-hearted "Let's go, Iwa-chan! I know you're tiny, but-"

Teeth gritted and sleeves rolled up, Iwaizumi seethes, "I swear to fucking god Oikawa if you say anything else, I'm going to kick you."

 _Please do_ , Oikawa thinks to himself, and sighs.

Hanamaki looks from over Kyoutani's shoulder, lips twitching as he stares at the two concentrated boys, and decides to give it a little shove.

Literally.

His touch is gentle enough on Kyoutani's back to be mistaken for a draft, and then he pushes, and they're no longer face-to-face but mouth-to-mouth.

But, after having trained with Hanamaki so many times, Iwa-chan doesn't skip a beat.

Kyoutani is completely red now, eyes wide and face pulling away fast, just as Iwaizumi slams his hand down on the table. It hits with a loud smack, and then he stands up.

There's something on Iwa-chan's face that looks like a mixture between a smirk and a frown, and Oikawa wants to know the reason for the latter.

"I win," Iwaizumi says flatly, and walks out.

(Oikawa puts his fingers to his lips and pinches them gently. Maybe he has bad luck.)

 

##

 

He's been wondering when it'd be his turn for a little too long.

Oikawa is sure that he's being punished for something, for maybe everything, and he doesn't know how much longer he can withstand the fact that Iwaizumi Hajime has never kissed him.

Iwa-chan has never seen him as anything more than a friend, anything more than that one kid who glued himself to his side when they were three and hasn't left it ever since.

Oikawa just wonders if he sees the way his hands twitch to be held.

(Not by just anyone, though. Preferably tanned hands, calloused from the tips to the palms, with two freckles between the knuckles on the left. Iwa-chan's hands.)

 

##

 

Oikawa is sure the gods are testing him now.

Iwa-chan has been acting just short of normal lately, and Oikawa is angry.

Angry that he can't figure out why, angry that he isn't being told why, angry that Iwaizumi is the one acting weird when Oikawa is who has to hold himself back from kissing the corners of his lips every time they even move.

He's been odd. Extremely odd.

Skittish all over. Leans in a little closer than usual when they're talking. Not even whispering, and he leans in to the point where Oikawa feels teased. He jerks his hand away whenever it touches Oikawa's on accident, like he's just been singed by lava, and Oikawa has to laugh and throw in an arrogant "Is my beauty too much for you, Iwa-chan?" to make it seem like it doesn't make his entire body tighten inside.

Acting weird, in the way that he keeps looking at Oikawa. Studying him when he thinks he's turned away, lip pulled between his teeth and eyes half-lidded in some sort of concentration. It's eerie, even for Iwa-chan, and Oikawa is fed up with it.

Because he's the one who's had to watch everyone else get kissed and act like he was fine. He's the one who thought that maybe he'd be next every time but it never happened. He's the one who has to remind himself to just breathe when they're in the club room, changing clothes.

It isn't fair that he has to act like nothing ever crosses his mind when Iwa-chan is suddenly being weird.

So he voices it when they're walking home, bags swinging as they step, "Iwa-chan, you've been acting... off."

Their shoulders bump and Iwaizumi almost jumps out of his skin. He sidesteps a little to put distance between them, and Oikawa tries not to notice ( _impossible_ ).

"Hmm?"

"I said, you've been acting off."

Oikawa sighs now to punctuate his words, looking expectantly towards Iwa-chan.

"Oh," Iwa-chan says, looking down at the sidewalk as he tugs his heels forward. "Have I?"

Oikawa runs a hand through his hair, lip falling into a sort of pout, "Yes. You have." He's indignant about it, and mad, and he doesn't really care if Iwaizumi picks up on it.

( _He kind of wants him to_.)

Iwaizumi hums in response but it isn't much of an answer. He kicks a bottle cap into the grass and then bends over to put it into his pocket to throw away later.

And it's Iwaizumi, it's such an Iwaizumi thing to do that Oikawa just about chokes. His stomach drops right through his body and he feels something break. It shatters right inside him, beneath this and around that and hidden so far under that he almost cries, and he stops walking completely. 

Iwa-chan stops too and regards him, confused, and opens his mouth. "Oikawa, what-"

"If you're going to ask me what's wrong, I'll scream."

His voice is dangerous but steady, like glass, and Iwaizumi closes his mouth.

"Fourteen years."

He wants to throw something at him. Make it more dramatic, but all he has is a sports bag and the straw from a juice box, so he throws that.

"Fourteen years, Iwa-chan, and you don't see anything."

"Hey, what do you-"

"And now you have the nerve to act all weird? Do you know what it's even taken me to act normal?"

Iwaizumi just blinks at him now, fingering the bottle cap in his pocket.

Oikawa just shakes his head, laughs. Sharp and bitter, the notes hitting the air like something sour, and he feels his eyes burning just before his nose. Oikawa turns away, because he knows he's an ugly crier. He's prettiest when he smiles.

( _It's probably why he looks happy even when he can't even feel his own chest_.)

"You know, you've always told me that I'm crazy," he goes on, brushing the back of his wrist against his eyes. "And I think you're right." 

His throat is tight now and it's closing around his voice, words shaking as he forces them out, "I'm absolutely delirious. I have to be out of my mind if I ever even thought..."

The next few words scratch at his lips. They sit on his tongue. Cross their legs. Uncross.

And then he lets them go.

"I have to be out of my mind if I ever even thought that I could have you."

They knock against his teeth as they fall past his mouth, and he feels lighter and heavier at the same time. Like if his heart beat any harder, it just might stop.

Iwaizumi is nothing short of a statue, shoulders rigid and lips parted just slightly. His eyes are shocked, his eyebrows pulled up to meet in the middle, and his hands are completely still. Oikawa sees it before he hears it, watches the tension mount in Iwa-chan's shoulders just before it floods out in time with a shaky exhale.

"Oikawa..."

His voice is soft, downcast, the way someone speaks before they break a promise.

Oikawa turns back to face him again, biting his bottom lip to keep it from shaking.

"Oikawa... I don't..."

And then Oikawa is turning again because he can't breathe that well, he really can't, the air inside him suddenly feels like it's choking him instead and he knows he's about to start sobbing. And he's... He's an ugly crier. He really is.

( _Iwa-chan always said so_.)

He starts to walk away now, because he's sure he doesn't want to hear the next few words. His feet are slow, an inconsistent rhythm against the sidewalk because he's half stumbling through his tears and half trying to run from them.

He trips over his own feet, his toes catching on his heel, and he feels himself tipping forward. It's all blurry, too blurry, and Oikawa can't do much but watch the ground get closer.

And then there are arms around his waist and he's not quite hitting the concrete, holding his breath tight. He turns his head, opening his eyes, and he feels like closing them all over again.

It's Iwa-chan, of course it's Iwa-chan, because he's always falling when it comes to him.

Iwaizumi tips Oikawa back into place so they're both standing. Clears his throat once, skids his eyes to the ground.

"Idiot. Running away before I even get to finish what I'm saying," he says gruffly, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

Oikawa looks to the sidewalk too, guesses it's a lot easier than facing each other, and sighs to himself.

"What I was trying to say was," Iwaizumi begins, looking back up to Oikawa, "that I don't... I don't understand why you were so angry."

Oikawa looks up a little, just enough to see his face again, and scrunches his nose as Iwaizumi continues.

"You got mad at me for acting weird, somewhat confessed to me, and then got even madder."

Iwa-chan steps a little closer, maybe a little shyly. Pokes his arm lightly. "Isn't being angry my thing?"

Oikawa chokes out a laugh, nose stuffy and red like a cherry. "I was mad because you were acting weird all of a sudden and-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I was acting weird because maybe I felt the same way?"

Everything seemed to stop at the same time. The wind through the leaves, the dog across the street, the heart in his chest. All stopped, frozen like a scratched DVD, and all Oikawa could seem to do was stare at Iwaizumi.

"Felt the same...?"

Iwaizumi let out something like a groan, tipping his head back and running a hand through his short hair. He sighed, long and hard, and shook his head. "Y'know, for someone who prides himself on being so observant, you're pretty stupid."

Oikawa was too shocked still to say anything in response, mind still trying to wrap around everything that had happened in the last five minutes. "So you... you like me?" His voice was hopeful, still stuffy and choked and sniffly, but he took a step closer.

Iwaizumi gave him a smile,  _that_ smile, the one that seems to pull at the left side of his mouth more than the right and it traces lines on the corners of his eyes and he reserves it for Oikawa, just Oikawa. He gives him that smile and reaches forward, closing his fingers around his wrist.

"Yes, dumbass. I do like you."

And then Oikawa was almost  _leaping_ , arms flying around Iwaizumi's neck as he pulled him close and buried his face in his shoulder, breathing in long and deep and holding him close. He let out something like a squeal, something like a shout, muffled by the fabric of Iwa-chan's jacket and the wind and the blizzard of their heartbeats.

"I like you too, Iwa-chan!"

"Well, yeah. You're the one who confessed."

Oikawa pulled away and slapped his arm. "I'm trying to make this cute and you're ruining it."

Iwaizumi laughed softly, the same laugh that's been on repeat in Oikawa's head like a bad ringtone. "I bet I can make it cuter than you can."

Oikawa made a face, staring at him in something like disbelief. "You can't-"

And then he felt a hard pull on his arm, hard enough for one foot to fall in front of the next and then they're chest to chest and Iwaizumi is kissing him. Sweet, straight on the mouth, lips rough but soft and slow against his own. Then there's a tongue swiping along his bottom lip, a hand on his back and running down his spine, and Oikawa can only feel dizzy, like the world was being ripped from his feet. He's trying to kiss back as best as he can, but he's a mess, he's a  _mess_ , lips pushing back against Iwa-chan's as he tries to breathe.

When they're two separate bodies again and Oikawa can see Iwa-chan's face, he thinks it's the most perfect thing in the world. Cheeks flushed, dusted red and eyes half-lidded, he looks almost  _shy_ , and Oikawa thinks it's the best thing he's ever seen.

"You know, it really wasn't fair of you to tease me for so long, Iwa-chan."

They join hands, calloused palms against gentle fingers, and start walking home.

"Tease you?"

"You kissed every single member on our team except for me."

Iwaizumi turned redder now, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Those were all  _accidents_ , Oikawa." _  
_

Oikawa sniffed, turning away. "You'll have to make up for it."

He does.

 

##

On Monday, Iwaizumi catches Oikawa eating Pocky during lunch. He leans over in a flash and kisses him straight on the lips, sweet and short enough to start a small fire on his mouth. Oikawa doesn't realize he took the entire Pocky from his lips until he's walked away.

On Tuesday, he's leaning against the door on his phone when someone pulls it from behind him. Oikawa feels himself tip forward, a little bit too far and heavy before someone grabs him from behind and spins him by the waist. Then there are lips on his, lightning fast and soft against his skin, and then Iwa-chan is off to his next class.

On Wednesday, Oikawa receives a ball that nearly hit the floor during practice. As soon as he stands up, knees red and hands stinging, there's a mouth on his own and a small tug on his hair and then the brush of lips on his ear whispering " _Nice receive_." He's so flustered he gets hit in the face with Matsukawa's serve a minute later.

On Thursday, just after the lunch stampede has ended and there are only the occasional people trickling through to the cafeteria, Iwaizumi pins him to the wall and presses a kiss to his lips. There weren't any people forcing them to be pushed together, nothing that made it this way. It was only Iwaizumi's chest pressed to his and his fingers closed around his forearms and the empty hall and a kiss so fast and desperate that it leaves Oikawa's head halfway off his body.

Later that same day, they turn the same corner in opposite hallways but they're at different distances from the wall so they wouldn't have hit each other anyway. But Iwaizumi steps to the side, blocks his path and kisses him quick on the lips, almost like a peck but with a little bite and a brief hand on the waist, and then he keeps walking. ( _Oikawa is sure he's going to die_.)

On Friday at practice, they're discussing game strategies on the bench. Sitting face to face, and Oikawa was just struck with the idea to block like  _this_ in times like  _this_ and- 

-And then Iwaizumi had a hand cupping his jaw, gently licking into his mouth as he kisses him, slow and soft. Then he pulls away, shoots him that crooked smile. "You're cute when you're enthusiastic about something."

When they leave that day, fingers laced together and Oikawa bouncing on his toes, everyone doesn't know what to do except be happy for them.

(Aside from the groans and fake-retching from Hanamaki and Matsukawa. Oikawa ignores them. Iwa-chan flips them off.)

They walk home with their hands swinging between them, Oikawa humming with red cheeks and messy hair and a heart that seems to be beating in every part of his body. Then Iwa-chan tugs his hand, pulls him to a stop.

"I missed one."

"Missed one?"

"Yeah. Missed a kiss."

"You did?"

"Mmm. Hold still."

Then there were hands on his hips and a mouth covering his own, a soft hum rising from his chest as he tipped his head back. He could feel the curve of Iwa-chan's mouth against his own and he couldn't help but laugh, hands unfurling against his chest as he pressed a kiss to Iwa-chan's bottom lip.

"Idiot, why are you laughing?"

Oikawa was smiling now, to the point where his cheeks hurt and his face was dusted pink and his lips were stretched wide.

"I'm just... happy."

And that was enough to make Iwa-chan laugh too, pulling him close and kissing him again, and again and again and again.

 


End file.
